


Fucking cute

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:02:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Jaskier is asleep on Geralt's shoulder.Geralt is trying not to feel feelings.And failing.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 345





	Fucking cute

Jaskier was asleep on his shoulder, drooling and Geralt was trying to fight this feeling. The warmth spreading in his chest, the little contented sigh, the loving smile at the sight of his friend, dozing there. NO. 

Weren't witchers supposed to not have any feeling? Didn't that come with the training that had given him those golden eyes and proficiency to kill any monsters, be they human, animal or magical. He was supposed to have become a machine by now, hardened by the trials of life, broken and devoid of any emotion that wasn't rage or revenge related.

There was certainly no place inside of him for longing, for affection, for gentleness and for whatever this was that made him want to put a blanket over Jaskier, make sure he was warm and cozy and maybe even sing him a lullaby. A lullaby!!! What on earth would compel him to think something like that, why would such a thought even cross his mind? What kind of power, of influence did this... Man have over him that he made the God damned butcher of blaviken melt on the inside. Because that was what was happening, he was melting, becoming a soft pile of goo for this young man. 

Part of Geralt wished he could say this was indeed some magical influence that maybe Jaskier was a siren, a succubus, something with the ability to tamper with people's emotions.... But although Jaskier could indeed change moods with his songs or his chatter, the truth of the matter was that he was undoubtedly human, and whatever feelings Geralt may be experiencing were not at all of any kind of magical origin.

And Geralt was experiencing feelings. A lot of them. In the beginning he had just been surprised that someone as seemingly harmless and small as the bard would be brave enough to follow him, even after being punched in the gut. Then came the annoyance at Jaskier's endless chatter, but, loath as he was to admit it, the annoyance soon turned into fondness. 

Geralt had lived in silence for so long, and the silence had haunted him, the silence had let horrible thoughts about his past deeds and about those who had died on his swords and all the choices he'd made, the bad ones and the worse ones the screams echoing in his ears... But Jaskier nonsense had drowned those horrors. He had been a distraction, a means of entertainment and a connection with the world outside of witcher-ing. He talked and talked, and yes, sometimes it was a bit too much and a bit annoying, but in general it was just a way to drown out the silence that reminded him of all of those he had silenced.

So yeah, he became fond of the chatter. And the colorful clothes. The witty comebacks, the jokes. Hell, even the singing and the lute (toss a coin to your fucking Witcher, would he ever get that song out of his head...). He became fond of Jaskier in general, if his presence, of who he was.

At some point in time, that mere fondness had evolved into something more akin to real affection. He sought out the bard, missed him when he wasn't there, was concerned for his health and wellbeing. Geralt never voiced these sentimental inclinations, of course, since he didn't even believe to feel like this. Concerned? For Jaskier? Him? Never. At all.

But yes, no matter how much and how strongly he denied it, Geralt cared very much for Jaskier, felt his life was more colorful, more bright and sunny when the bard was with him, and felt a whole when he was gone. Jaskier had become part of his life, and he was... Well, he may be a simple bard, but for Geralt, he was pretty damn special. (but he didn't care. Really didn't)

As he slept, Geralt got a bit transfixed looking at his eyelashes, the curve of his nose, the soft hair on his brow. Goodness, Geralt, do you hear yourself think? Are you some blushing maiden looking at a armored knight? What is wrong with you!?

Witchers don't have feeling, my ass. Maybe some wouldn't. Maybe because they didn't get to bask in the soft beauty of a snoring bard who was so peacefully breathing rhythmically, without a single care in the world, possibly building up some more of the clever and fun songs, the creativity, the joy, the dear darling with his enticing mouth and his leg and him, always by his side, him, trusting and caring and loving and understanding Geralt even when he was treated poorly....

"Hmmm" 

Geralt groaned, looking at Jaskier with something in between annoyance and adoration.

"Why did you have to be so fucking cute?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! Please do tell if you did! 
> 
> You know you want to comment!!
> 
> Thanks for reading ;)


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